The Story Of A Bracelet

There is a story I would like to share with you, it is a story of when I was a little girl. It truly happened, this story, and I often think of it, to this day. It happened to me, and since that fateful day, I have returned to the memories of that afternoon very often. It was a fateful day in that it changed my life, and affected my thinking permanently, forever molding me into who I have become today. And so, it is a story not simply worth sharing, but a story that I ought to share and one that you ought to listen to very intently:

My uncle owned many lands and fields and he often took me with him riding in his big red truck as he oversaw the workers in some of the factories. One factory in particular was utilized by turning rough corn granules into finely milled corn grits, the piles of freshly-grinded whitish yellow corn grits were like little towers all in a line on the cement floor.

Now, a few weeks earlier, I had just received from my grandmother's maid a very beautiful bracelet. Yes, I know you are thinking that she was merely a maid in my grandmother's home and what in the world kind of a bracelet could she have given to me? But I was only a child of around six years and it was a very beautiful bracelet, in my eyes. It was delicate, intricately woven silver tautened into a very thin loop and it looked perfect against my very fine, porcelain-like skin. I loved how the cuts in the silver caught the sunlight while I played out in the yard in the afternoons. It was my most treasured item, and I refused to take it off! I bathed with it on my wrist, I played with it on my wrist, ate with it on my wrist, slept with it on my wrist, I did everything wearing this adored bracelet!

I was wearing my bracelet that day my uncle and I rode up the mountains in his big red truck. It was about time to go home already after walking through the factory and the fields, it was late afternoon. There I stood in front of the little castle tower of ground corn, poking it with my finger, and I noticed how every time I poked it, the little bits of corn grits from higher on top would fall down, tumbling over my hand, covering and filling in the hole I had just made. The thought occurred to me like the voice of the devil What if I put my bracelet into there, what would happen? But what if it gets covered up in all the grits and I never find it again? But then what if I do find it again? I can put it in there , remember exactly where I inserted it into, put my hand back into the same exact place, and pull it out again! Because I love my bracelet that much, I know I can find it again! I contemplated the ideas running through my head. Of course, there was the little part of me that said Is it worth the risk? I eased my beautiful bracelet off over my knuckles, grabbed ahold of it really tight, and thrust my fist deep into the middle of the hill of corn grits, I let go, then I quickly pulled my hand out again. I blinked, waited two seconds, then struck my hand back into the same exact spot where I had let go of it.

I couldn't feel it with my fingers, I panicked. I just have to move my hand around some more and I'll find it I reassured myself. I didn't want to take my hand out of there, anymore! I groped frantically up and down inside the hill of corn grits, they were all cascading down onto my arm, sprinkling down onto the ground! I must have searched in there with my fingers for about 30 minutes. My bracelet was gone. That was the last time that I saw it.

My heart sunk that evening with the heavy realization of a lesson learned the hard way, one that I would never forget. Is letting go of something you love, just to see if it will still be there when you come back again, worth the risk of losing it, forever? This thought burned into my mind and has left an eternal scar on my heart, one that I am very thankful and honored to have! Because of this scar, today, I know the worth of the beautiful things that are important to me; no matter what they are, who they are, where they came from, or from whom they came from! For my whole life, and today, I remember the agonizing feeling of loosing something that I loved, due to the reason that I risked it! I learned, when I was around six years of age, that I should never risk the things, or the people, that I can't afford to lose! Because losing something that you love, is not worth the risk just to see if it will still be there when you look again. Losing someone that you can't live without, is not worth the risk just to see if that person will still be there when you come back.

And so, I am steadfast. Whether it may be to people I have only spent a few hours with, or to people I have spent a few days with, or to people I have spent years with, or to people I have met on FaceBook: anybody who has touched my life and made it a little more beautiful, is worth keeping and holding onto. I don't let go, and if I lose someone, it's because they let go, not me. Now, is that worth it? Is the hurt of being let go of, worth the effort to hold on? I would say yes, because that way, I know that I'm better, I know that I earned the scar on my heart that I received a long time ago in a corn milling factory, I know that I have more to give. I have more, not them. And this has not allowed me to be taken advantage of, rather, because I am able to see the worth that I put into individuals as being a part of my life, I am equally able to see how other people are not worth being a part of my life, and I can distinguish who exactly to keep, and who to let go of. I don't hold onto the ones that don't make my life beautiful, but I hold onto the ones that I want to keep on my wrist always, just as I did my bracelet.

And this is the story that I wanted to share with you. :) Right now, I am devoting my time fully to the emergence of my upcoming novel, and I will get back in touch with you when it is released (or almost released), but I am happy to keep in touch with you over at my FaceBook Page, which is more easy for me to update! Have a wonderful day, everyone!

a note

Just a quick note! I am very busy at the moment, but I don't want to keep anybody out of the loop, so I'd like to invite anyone who hasn't yet, to visit and view my photo album Portovenere ..

Adding new photos to this album is an ongoing activity of mine, so be sure to check back often..!

The Scent Of A Man

I have decided to start out this year on a more lusty note. I've written quite a few sensual pieces in the past, all of which I've taken great pleasure in writing, and I thought I'd start out this new year of 2011 with one of them. This one in particular I wrote just yesterday (actually just this morning, around 12 AM or so, but that was before I went to sleep, so I consider it yesterday..hhaah). Enjoy a sensual 2011, everyone..

Michelangelo's David
This photo I took myself (at my own risk, as it is forbidden to take photos of David) in the Galleria dell'Academia, Firenze, Italia in the year 2010.
All rights reserved.

The Scent Of A Man
January 7, 2011
Rough skin colored by the sun
Under my fingers feels like
Sand on the oceans’ shores
Strong arms like twin pillars
Beneath my palms feel like
Marble towers of ancient pasts
The tendons in his neck
Turn his face towards me like
The steady strength of  fortresses
Under his skin my sweat is born
Between his arms my breaths are stolen
His neck is where my kisses burrow
Oh the scent of a man........
For the lingering scent of a man
The whole world does pale in comparison!

Copyright © 2011 C. JoyBell C. All rights reserved.

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